


Ordinary Occurences

by aurorakemanche



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Bickering, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorakemanche/pseuds/aurorakemanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jareth is living in the mortal world with Sarah. Unaccustomed to the ways of humans and modern technology, he has a bit more trouble adjusting to everything than both he and Sarah would like. These are their adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Grocery Shopping With the Goblin King Is Never A Good Idea

Sarah had disappeared. He couldn’t find her.

At first, Jareth was able to maintain his composure fairly easily. He just blinked, staring at the spot she had only been a moment earlier, and then continued on his way down the aisle of brightly colored cereal boxes. 

However, after maneuvering down tightly enclosed lanes that smelt of harsh lemon cleaner and over-processed food, with people jostling the annoyingly rickety buggy Sarah left him in charge of, Jareth began to become slightly less composed. He still hadn’t found her, and he was positive he’d swept through the entire store. 

The Goblin King had recently moved in with Sarah after five years of silence, one realization of his feelings for her, six weeks of stalking and declarations of intent, then three months of dating before the mutual decision that he would move into her apartment while she finished school.

Things were going smoothly between them. Of course, they fought, and there was that incident with her closet when he first moved in. But if anything, Jareth was actually enjoying his time Above. There were no needy goblins, demanding subjects, or whiny runners to worry about. There was only Sarah. She was the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night. She was always there — near and warm and smiling.

Only during the mornings, when she had classes, were they apart. And that wouldn’t even be an issue, however, Sarah banned him from attending lectures after he spent an entire hour and a half of class tracing the top of her thigh while whispering about all the different ways he was going to take her when they got back home. Every other moment, though, they spent in each other’s presence. He would read by her silently as she worked on homework, and they would spend the evenings out around the city, Sarah leading him by the hand, showing him all the little wonders that her own world had to offer.

The store, he was in now, wasn’t a large building. Hardly a place that should have caused this feeling of worry and dread that came over him. But this was the first time he was unintentionally separated from her. They were always together when going out. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like going out on his own, Jareth just found the cacophony and bluster of human society more tolerable in Sarah’s presence.

So, it wasn’t like he panicked. He was only concerned in regard with her well-being. The title of Goblin King had more than its fair share of enemies (really just those Jareth might have insulted, and who would love to see his glittery-hide taken down a few notches). And those enemies were not above using any means necessary to see to his downfall, including using Sarah to gain an upper hand (actually most of his enemies found Sarah to be quite pleasant, especially seeing as she did kick his glittery-ass, being a fifteen year-old human at that. And they would never do anything so nefarious or rude as to kidnap her). 

Although, looking back a few weeks later, Jareth was inclined to admit that perhaps calling on the goblin horde en masse was a little over the top.

________________________________________

Once the screaming began, Sarah knew something was wrong.

The young woman was currently in the fruit area, picking out the ripest of raspberries she could find to make sauce for Peach Melba later tonight. 

Jareth had a fierce sweet tooth, and she had been trying many different recipes since he moved in with her that fit his tastes. He didn’t have much experience with human food, and she enjoyed introducing him to new things to see his reactions. Well, that, and she didn’t really enjoy the effects processed sugar had on the fairytale king. Really, it was like watching a deleted scene from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory that was to disturbing to be released to the public.

Sarah picked up a box of red fruit with a satisfied nod and went over to examine the peaches, when she heard a loud crash that sounded like someone knocked over a fairly large display of canned goods. She gave a mental shrug and went back to inspecting fruit when an ear-piercing shriek made her start, peach falling from her hand, down to the ground, where it proceeded to roll away. 

Heart thumping, Sarah listened to the sounds of increasing panic throughout the store while she watched the peach roll away to finally stop in front of the vegetable display on the other side of the room. Her eyes slowly trailed up the metallic stand and met with where a goblin sat under a spray of water. 

The creature was using a piece of lettuce like a loofah to scrub its grimy body and occasionally turn its head up to catch the water in its mouth. When the goblin finally noticed her, it gave an enthusiastic wave and then continued on with its bathing.

Fruit forgotten along with any and all plans for dessert making, Sarah turned around to see goblins swarming all throughout the store. 

The breaking of glass and tearing of cardboard accompanied the sounds of middle class consumer terror as the goblins broke into whatever they could get their hands on. The shrill cries of suburban mothers pierced the air as some of the goblins decided that their time would be better spent collecting the sequins and rhinestones that liberally decorated some of the women’s tracksuits. Middle-aged men attempted to retain some semblance of dignity as they worriedly skirted to the nearest exit, toppling over senior citizens on their way out. The children who weren’t being hauled off by their hysteric guardians joined in the pandemonium, stuffing their mouths with as many sugar-filled treats they could get their hands on.

Now, it wasn’t like Sarah was unfamiliar with the goblins’ antics. She was dating their king after all. She’d learned very early on in their relationship to never become too attached to her intimate clothing or those lovely fuzzy socks of hers that kept her feet warm from the bitter chill of winter air. Heck, she no longer questioned it when she’d get up in the middle of the night to find goblins passed out on her kitchen counter or curled up in cabinets and drawers.

However, letting goblins loose in a grocery store full of unsuspecting humans went past adorable mischief and crashed headfirst into horrific chaos.

Sarah was able to gather what remained of her wits after some of the initial shock wore off, and strode promptly past the goblins, tossing produce like snowballs and downing barbeque sauce like it was ale. 

She silently cursed. How did these things always end up happening to her? She was sure she must have done something in a past life for her present to be in this constant state of chaos. Maybe she was cursed, doomed to suffer eternal torment in the form of small, smelly imps. 

Although, after rounding the corner, Sarah realized she was being completely unfair to herself and the goblins because the king standing ten feet away from her in full regalia deserved her ire much more.

_“Jareth!”_

The Goblin King turned his attention away from the pimply youth he had dangling a good three feet above the floor. The air was pulsing and cracking with magick. Darkness radiated from his form, slithering out onto the checkerboard tiles and cocooning him in a shadowy haze of malevolent energy.

“What are you doing?” Sarah shouted incredulously.

Jareth’s initial relief at seeing Sarah quickly melted, replaced by a cool façade of indifference. 

“I couldn’t find you,” he stated simply.

“So you unleash the horde,” she said, whipping her hand around to indicate the goblins. A group of them zoomed by in a shopping cart. The king’s cool façade remained nonplussed. 

“It worked, did it not?”

“Jareth…” Sarah said wearily. She glanced pointedly at the boy he still had a hold of. Jareth turned toward the kid, looking at him surprised he still had him dangling up in the air.

“I was attempting to obtain your location,” he said, hesitant.

“And how exactly did you expect the bagboy to know where I was?”

“He bears the insignia of this establishment, Sarah,” he spoke defensively, while pointing out the logo on the boy’s apron. “If anyone is capable of traversing this labyrinth of foodstuffs it is one who bears the mark of its chieftain.”

“Why didn’t you just scry for me with a crystal?”

He blinked and then brought himself up to full height, attempting to give off an imposing air. “Really, Sarah? Do you think me so obtuse?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but then paused, feigning to contemplate her answer.

“Sarah,” he hissed.

The corners of her lips twitched. “No. But you can be illogically rash, and you tend to overreact.”

To confirm her statement, a man wearing a gaudy Ed Hardy shirt ran by yelling in terror as a trio goblins clung to his back while yelling, “Piggyback ride!”

“So, how exactly do you plan on fixing this mess, your majesty?”

Jareth gave her a flat look.

But the next moment Sarah blinked, he was gone. As well as the goblins and the panic and the chaos that had previously encompassed her vision. 

It was as if he’d flipped a switch. Suddenly everything was back to its normal, ordinary, magick-less state. People walked past her with dull eyes, completely absorbed in their own minds and worlds, oblivious to what they had just been exposed to. Even the canned display was back in its previous lackluster arrangement.

“So little faith.” 

Warm breath wafted down her neck, sending chills spiking up her body.

Sarah turned to find Jareth leaning on their buggy, still filled with every last one of their items. He was back in his mortal attire, his hair short and choppy.

Maybe it was because she knew what he was, but she couldn’t get used to him posing as human.  
His eyes still had that predatory glint, and his skin and hair retained that unearthly sheen that made him glow. But he was passable.

“Cute trick.”

He sneered at her words. “Must you be so curt? I’ll have you know that cute trick was actually quite taxing.”

Sarah had trouble holding back her expression of surprise. Jareth wasn’t one to admit weakness so readily. 

“Yes, well, you make it look all too easy,” she said magnanimously.

“I can assure you, even I have my limits. Why do you think I crave so much sugar?” he said, with a patient smile. “All those carbohydrate-filled goods are perfect for restoring my magical energy. Speaking of, I believe the ice cream is this this way, yes?” he said, angling the cart in the opposite direction.

Sarah took in his casual expression, clashing with the eager look in his eyes and laughed softly under her breath. “How did you know what I was making?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

They both fell into sync as they walked beside one another towards the frozen foods section, neither noticing the bagboy eying them as he handed off groceries to customers with shaky hands.


	2. Why Goblin Kings and the Flu Should Never Mix

Body slick with sweat, Sarah did her best to put all sense of physical consciousness out of mind, but without result. No matter her position or how many sheets she wound herself around in, sleep evaded her like a untamable lover, teasing her body with promises of fulfillment, yet leaving her frustrated and dissatisfied in its cruel wake. 

She couldn’t remember what it was like before this. Before the aching pain that plagued her body, and the bloating numbness, caused the relentless pressure in her head. Sarah sensed there was a time before this feeling of dull torment. A time when she didn’t have to worry about passing out from exhaustion or feeling like she was going to vomit whenever she moved.

She was hollow. Utterly drained of will and power. She lacked the strength to do much besides wallow in her own misery and hope that it would not completely consume her. 

The silent vibrations of a cellphone brought her out of her somber reflections. Sarah glanced over at her nightstand from the corner of her eyes and gave a huff of annoyance. She was sitting dead center in her bed, comforter and blankets tucked all around her to keep the chill air at bay.

With a dramatic groan she pushed off the covers and scooted over to the edge of the bed, snatching her phone off the wood. 

“What?”

“Do you want grape or cherry flavored?”

“Cher- Jareth, I told you just to get some cough drops and NyQuil. I even wrote down the names and showed you pictures on the computer before you left. You’ve been gone for almost thirty minutes. What are you doing?”

“Yes, yes. I know. But there are all these different remedies, Sarah. This one says extra strength and this one says double strength, and there’s another that has a guarantee that you’ll feel better the instant you use it. I was thinking instead of just taking the pinquill medicine, you mix them all together. That way you’ll receive double-extra strength and get better in no time.”

_“Just get what’s on the list, Jareth!”_

________________________________________

Sarah was sound asleep by the time he returned home. Jareth loomed over her, assessing her condition by putting a hand to her forehead. She was still hot, and her skin was clammy.

Humans had such delicate bodies. The tiniest thing could upset the balance of their physical condition in an instant, and they could drop without any warning sign and there couldn’t be a thing anyone could do.

She looked so frail lying there, something Jareth was not used to. Sarah was always resilient. But these last couple days, she’d been so burned out despite her constant assertions that she wasn’t as bad as she looked. He caught her several times vomiting in her washroom and on the brink of fainting. Even then she continued to insist she was fine.

Watching her tangled up in bed sheets, sprawled out, and breathing through her mouth like a winded dwarf made him feel distant and powerless. There wasn’t a thing he could do to help her besides gather a bunch of medicine like some insignificant errand boy. He didn’t even know how the medicine worked much less what kind to get her without Sarah telling him exactly what she needed.

It was a shame they weren’t in the Underground. At the very least he could protect her there. She would not have to worry about disease or illness or any of the thousand of other bothersome things mortals had to put up with every day that threatened their lives.

But even if he did whisk her away to his kingdom at this precise moment, he wouldn’t be able to heal her. That pesky little ‘no power over me’ clause was still in effect, and as long as it stayed that way, he could do nothing but wait and watch.

How utterly pathetic I am, he thought, while proceeding to dump the entire contents of a paper bag on the bed.

Sarah started awake, ready to begin a string of curses until she caught sight of the Goblin King standing before her with a smug look on his face.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. I’ve returned from the pharmacy with your items. You should probably take your medicine before you fall asleep again. You are welcome.”

“What’s all this?” Sarah asked, picking up a jar of some kind of aromatherapy oil.

“Don’t worry I got your pinquill,” he said, handing her a dark plastic bottle. “One of the workers was decent enough to help me out. I told her I wasn’t familiar with this whole ‘sick’ thing, and she helped me pick up a few things that should be of use for invalids like you who are bedridden with disease. I’m not quite sure how this device is supposed to help, but I took her word for it,” Jareth commented, inspecting a packaged thermometer.

“So what else do you two talk about?” Sarah said, glaring at him. Jareth smirked inwardly, pretending not to notice. 

“Oh, well, she asked me what kind of product I used to get my hair this way, but people are always asking me that. For some reason they never quite believe me when I say it’s like this naturally.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Yes, they usually do that. But, she also kept pestering me about my martial status. She was very persistent. Kept going on about how incredible it was that someone like me was single, and while I agree with her, I in no way-“

_Thwack._

“You are not single, you glitter-coated fae whore!”

“Did you just throw a bag of cough drops at me?” Jareth asked incredulously.

“Damn straight! You were supposed to be getting me medicine, not adding names to your grab bag.”

“I cannot believe you threw a bag of cough drops at me.”

“I can’t believe you were flirting with some hussy and then come home and talk about it like it’s no big deal!”

“I did not flirt with anyone, Sarah,” he said through his teeth. “The woman who I was referring to asked if I was married, and when I replied that I wasn’t, she proceeded to pawn her many available granddaughters off on me.”

The fury etched in Sarah’s face began to fade, and Jareth nodded approvingly.

_Thwack._

“What the hell was that for?”

“For making me think you were hitting on some other girl, you jerk! You’re just lucky it was a pillow and not this bottle of multivitamins,” she snapped.

“You drew your own conclusions about what happened. It’s not my fault you assumed the worst.” Jareth sat down on the side of the bed and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t you pull that crap. How did you expect me to react? _Oh, she sounds just lovely, Jareth dear._ And for the record, I was more upset about the fact you didn’t bother to mention to her that despite you not being married, you are in fact unavailable.” 

“Yes, well, it’s rather difficult to explain that to an overly aggressive woman who can’t take no for an answer and who’s greatest ambition in life seems to be the bearing of hordes of great-grandchildren.”

Sarah’s lips gave the barest of twitches, but Jareth seemed to catch it anyway.

“Oh, go ahead — laugh. The Goblin King brought down low by yet another mortal woman. It’s all very funny, isn’t it? You know if you were Goblin Queen, you wouldn’t have to put up with all this annoying human sickness or pesky women who desperately fawn all over me. You could just turn them into some small, slimy creature or dump them in the bog — which ever suited your fancy at the moment.”

Sarah gaped at him. “Y-you did not just say that,” she said.

He sighed, put out. “Well, I can understand how you would be more adverse to those kind of activities — being the good-hearted heroine and all that — but you’d be surprised about how satisfying it is to turn your enemies into tiny vermin when your feeling down.”

“That is- that is not-,” Sarah huffed, looking around desperately, trying to collect her thoughts. 

“Goblin Queen?” she asked him warily.

Jareth stiffened noticeably.

She sighed, looking at him, eyes full of pity. “I know it’s not easy being away from your kingdom and having to leave everything that’s familiar behind,” she said softly, “but…I thought you were okay with this?”

When he didn’t answer, Sarah leaned back against the headboard and shut her eyes.

Jareth grimaced as a sab of guilt shot through him.

She looked utterly exhausted. Her brow was furrowed in a way that told him she was in serious discomfort. Sweat was beading at her hairline and her breathing was harsh.

Honestly, it was so easy to get under her skin. He usually loved to tease her. Her face would get red, and she’d always pucker her lips in that adorable way when she got angry. But here Sarah was, already feeling miserable, and all he did was add to her pain by stressing her out even more. If he didn’t think so highly of himself, he would probably believe himself to be an idiot.

Reaching out to brush the hair from of her face, Jareth leaned in and looked her in the eye. “I did not mean to upset you so,” he whispered. “Forgive me?”

Sarah looked at him for a long moment, and then let out a harsh breath through her nose. “On one condition,” she whispered back, leaning her forehead against his.

_“Anything.”_

“You have to go with me to the doctor,” she said, smiling far too pleasantly for him to feel comfortable with.

________________________________________

Jareth despised going to the doctor. When Sarah asked him to go with her yesterday as a condition for her forgiveness, he thought nothing of it. It seemed like a simple enough request, but he quickly found out that he had made a terrible mistake.

“How much longer must we wait in this infernal place, Sarah?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“They said it was a twenty minute wait,” she replied crisply, smirking at his jiggling foot.

“And we’ve been here for thirty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds. Can they not tell time, or are these people so remiss that they cannot keep track of those in their care?”

“That’s American healthcare for you. Why don’t you read a magazine? Here,” Sarah said, handing him a two-year old issue of _Glamour._

“Don’t touch that,” he growled, swatting the magazine from her hand, earning surprised looks from the other patients in the room. “There’s no telling what kind of diseases have accumulated on it from being handled by all these disgusting, sick-ridden people. You’re health is fragile enough as it is.”

“I suppose that’s your odd way of worrying for me.”

_“Hmph.”_

“It’s too bad I left my iPod at home. You could have listened to some music while we waited.”

“And deprive myself of the melodious sound of all the hacking and wheezing around me? Don’t be ridiculous,” Jareth sniped, leaning away from an elderly woman who began another round of harsh coughing.

“Sarah Williams, Doctor Grewal will see you now,” a nurse called, sticking her head out the door.

“Thank the stars,” Jareth said, dragging Sarah from her seat and out of the waiting area.

The eyes of the nurse who had called for Sarah lit up as Jareth approached. “Hello, sir. Sorry for the wait,” she said, smiling brightly.

Sarah frowned at being so blatantly dismissed.

“Well,” Jareth intoned, “perhaps if the staff here were competent enough to get their jobs done, you wouldn’t have to apologize, now would you?”

“I-” the nurse faltered.

“It’s not like any of you should bother living up to the time standards you set for yourselves or your patients. But as long you say your _sorry_ , I suppose that makes everything all hunky dory, doesn’t it?”

The nurse stared at him with wide eyes, clutching her clipboard to her chest. Her lower lip began to tremble, but before Jareth could carry on with his self-inflated tirade, Sarah pinched the skin of his hand that was holding her own, causing him to yelp and leap back.

“Sorry about him,” Sarah said consolingly, ignoring the glaring Goblin King. “He’s not very patient. Why don’t you take us to the examination room. I promise he won’t cause any more trouble.”

Glancing uneasily back and forth between the couple, the nurse nodded her head with dubious assent. 

“This way,” she spoke, indicating the hall to her left.

Sarah followed along readily, while Jareth lagged behind, doing his best to make his obvious displeasure with the present circumstances known.

The nurse stopped at a door halfway down the hall and let the patient and visitor inside a small white room, tagged with posters displaying anatomy charts and CPR procedures for general reference. 

“In here. Please take a seat,” she stated curtly.

Sarah gave an exaggerated sigh of resignation and hitched herself up on the examining bed. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Jareth plopped down onto the thick, stiff fabric of the waiting chair and hooked his legs over the edge, giving the impression he was more at ease than he actually was.

“All right, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong Mrs. Williams,” the nurse said, situating herself in front of the computer.

_“It’s Ms._ Williams actually,” Sarah told her. “I’m not married.” Jareth shot her a bland look but said nothing.

“For the last two days, I haven’t been able to keep much down besides some liquids. My temperature has been fluctuating from around 100 and I’ve had a pretty bad cough.”

“Any phlegm, stuffed up nose?”

“Just the cough.” The nurse clacked away at her keyboard.

“Any pain? Anywhere that’s been causing you discomfort?”

“Well, it feels like my whole body is aching, but I’ll get these headaches every so often.” 

“Hm.” The nurse continued to type, the only sound in the room was her tiny nails against the keys. 

Jareth’s foot resumed its jiggling from where it left off outside, and he strummed his fingers impatiently against his folded arms.

He started to say something, but Sarah cut him off before he could speak. “So, busy day at the office?” she asked pleasantly.

The nurse got up from the desk and walked over to where Sarah sat. “Yes, we’ve had quite a string of flu patients. The last few days patients have been filling up the waiting room with all the same symptoms,” she said while wrapping Sarah’s arm up in a blood pressure cuff. 

“I would say you should’ve come in sooner, but you were lucky enough to get in when you did. Our appointments have been booked up, and we’ve been trying to squeeze in as many people as we can manage. Blood Pressure is 123, normal,“ she said, tearing the velcro from Sarah’s arm.

Sarah flexed her upper arm and watched the nurse walk over to the cabinets and pull out a chunky thermometer. She pushed away her patient’s dark hair and placed the device by her ear, both of them still and waiting. 

“Temperature 101,” the nurse said aloud, pulling away to go back to the desk and enter in the information.

“All right,” she said, soon after sliding from her chair, “Doctor Grewal will be with you soon. Feel free to browse the magazines and pamphlets while you wait.”

“Wait?” Jareth said, turning on Sarah the moment the nurse stepped out the door. “What does she mean wait? That’s all we’ve been doing is waiting. When are we going to stop waiting and actually get some help?”

“Jareth,” Sarah hissed, and he promptly slumped in his seat.

Sarah leaned back against the bed and shut her eyes. Another headache was threatening to come on. She could feel the dull throbbing start up at the base of her head, and tried to concentrate on something else to divert her attention.

She could hear Jareth get up and begin to move about the room, his shoes clacking against the linoleum.

Sarah peeked out at him. She followed his movements around the tight space as he went from poster to poster, studying the graphs and illustrations.

He seemed fascinated. His long fingers traced the pictures with deep concentration, while he silently muttered to himself.

She wasn’t sure, but it almost seemed like he was trying to memorize the information.

When the posters seemed to lose his interest, he moved on to the desk where the computer monitor sat. He situated himself in the rotating chair, and started to swivel around, creating a rhythmic squeaking sound. 

_Eeeeee-ehhhhhrr, eee-ehhhhhrrrr, eeeeeeeeeee-ehhhhrrr._

No sooner was he humming along in a jaunty tune, rocking back and forth.

_Eeeeee-ehhhhhrr, eee-ehhhhhrrrr, EEEEEEEEEEE-EHHHHHHRRRRRR._

“Stop,” Sarah told him, rubbing her temples.

He ceased his humming and rocking, but his eyes scanned the room for something else to distract him.

The computer at the desk gave a ping and Jareth’s eyes lit up. He reached for the mouse with a slight grin on his face. 

“Don’t touch that.”

He breathed out harshly through his nose, but turned away from the workstation.

His attention quickly settled on the cabinets in the corner, and with a kick, he rolled over towards them.

Sarah watched him intently as he inspected the contents, opening and closing the little drawers and doors. Just when she was about to berate him again, Jareth pulled out a carton of cotton balls. He gingerly poked at prodded at the mass of cotton, trying to determine its essence. The tips of his fingers grasped at the soft white fluff, pulling it apart as he peered at it, fascinated. But when he brought the cotton up to his nose to inhale its scent, it shot up his nose, and Sarah had to turn away to hide her laughter.

Once the items in the drawers lost their novelty, Jareth started to wander again. 

A row of hanging medical instruments caught his eye by the bed, and he went over to inspect them. Jareth picked one off its hook and fiddled around with it in an attempt to figure out what it did. He examined it closely, and when he accidently flicked a switch, a light flashed on into his eyes, starling him.

“Put it back. You’re not supposed to messing with anything.”

Jareth finally found the end of his patience and whirled on her. “Then perhaps they shouldn’t leave their patients alone for so long! What do they expect us to do while we wait in here with nothing to occupy our time?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Sarah said, bored. “The nurse said to read magazines.”

“ _Read magazines_ ,” he mocked. “What a splendid idea. Have the patients waste their miniscule lives away by spending what little time they might have left, reading about the latest trends in weight loss and home decor.”

A knocked sounded from the other side of the door and a new presence entered the room. “Hello, sorry for the wait,” the doctor said, closing the door behind him.

“That’s quite all right,” Sarah said, a smidge too sweetly.

Jareth turned towards the man to tell him just how all right it wasn’t, but Sarah placed a well-aimed kick at the king’s rear, shutting him up instantaneously.

The doctor turned around noticing the two glaring at each other, quite oblivious to their earlier quarreling. “Excuse me, uh,” he said, glancing at the clipboard and then nodding at the otoscope in Jareth’s hands, “Mr. Williams, I’m afraid only the staff are allowed to handle the medical equipment.”

Jareth blinked, and slowly, a grin as genuine as anyone had ever seen stretched across his face.

“Oh, he-”

“Is very sorry and promises not to touch any more of your little tools, doctor,” Jareth said, cutting Sarah off smoothly. 

He placed the device back on the wall along with the other instruments and sauntered back over the chair, where he resumed his previous sprawled out position. Both Sarah and the Doctor watched him; one cross, the other at a complete loss.

“Well, do get on with it,” Jareth said magnanimously. “My _wife_ has been waiting quite a while now, and I’d hate to push her too much, you understand?”

“Of course,” Doctor Grewal replied, collecting himself. 

“Let’s see,” he said situating himself in front of the computer monitor, “Fever, vomiting, aches, and coughing. Is the vomiting frequent?”

“Just the few times I’ve been able to get food in my stomach; it never stays down. And it’s only been the last two days. I was able to keep everything down today, but that’s probably only because I’ve eaten cream of wheat,” Sarah replied wryly.

“And you’re coughing? Any pain, sore throat?”

“No, neither.”

“Well, it sounds like you have a mild case of the flu, Sarah,” the doctor said, walking over to her. “Nothing to worry too much about,” he told her as her gently probed the underside of her jaw for swollen lymph nodes. “Just drink plenty of liquids, and you’ll have to miss class and call into work sick for a few days while you recover.”

“How much longer is this going to last?”

The doctor turned around, peering over his crescent frames at Jareth. “The worst of it will pass in the next couple of days, however, some milder symptoms could last for at least another week.”

“A week!” Jareth repeated, incredulous.

“A least,” the doctor replied, turning back to Sarah. “The aches could well last her up to two whole weeks.”

He whipped his stethoscope off from around his neck. “I’m going to listen to your lungs now,” he told her, placing the chestpiece under her shirt, on her lower back.

Just then sparks from the lights overhead popped viciously, letting darkness fall. A muffled, high-pitched scream sounded out from somewhere in the building — most likely some unfortunate child who had been promised a harmless visit to the doctor’s and their worst fears had just been confirmed.

Sarah sat still and rigid, clenching her teeth. Neither Jareth nor the doctor had made any sounds since the power went off. A sick feeling settled deep within the pit her stomach that had nothing to do with the flu.

She turned and narrowed her eyes at where she remembered Jareth was sitting.

_“Goblin King,”_ she hissed.

There were a few moments of silence and then the lights slowly flickered back to life. However, the fluorescents were no longer the sterile white she remembered; they now cast an eerie orange glow over the room making the surroundings even more gruesome.

Jareth had not moved. Despite him still being cloaked in his mortal disguise, he looked far from human. His bangs fell over hooded eyes, the angles of his face made sharper, more alien by the shadows. His cheeks were sunken in, giving him a hollow, gaunt appearance. The result was ghostly and terrifying, and something that would’ve caused the bravest of warriors to run screaming in the opposite direction, damsel be damned.

_Drama Queen._

“What the _hell_ was that?” Sarah asked him. “And what did you do with the doctor?” she added, noticing the other man’s lack of presence.

That is until she looked down and saw a chicken blinking up at her from the ground.

“You didn’t…” she breathed, staring down open-mouthed.

The chicken let out a confused squawk.

“I am at my limit, Sarah.”

She ignored him and ran a shaky hand over her face. “What were you thinking?” she said, her voice cracking with panic.

“That man declared he could not heal you properly,” he shouted, foisting himself up on his feet, “and then he had the audacity to touch you intimately right in front of me! Did you actually expect that I would sit by compliant while another man has his hands all over you?”

Sarah looked up at him, her anger winning out over the bubbling hysteria. 

“Okay, first of all, that is not what happened. If you had bothered to listen, Jareth, you would have heard him say he was only checking my lungs. It’s a regular procedure for patients. He was not trying to feel me up.” 

The barest hint of tension slid out from Jareth’s posture, but he kept silent. 

“Secondly, I know illness is a new concept for you, but you have to realize that I am mortal and not all of my problems can be poofed away by wishes and Goblin Kings.”

“I am aware you are mortal. Do not speak to me as if I were a child, Sarah.”

“Then stop acting like one!” 

His eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me childish?” he asked in a dangerously low voice.

She gave him an unimpressed look. 

“You just turned someone into a chicken because you got jealous. And you know what? I can’t tell if this is worse than you sending Hoggle and me to the bog because I kissed him. I suppose you want me to thank you for being generous and not turning me into a chicken as well?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he told her nastily. “I just might consider it. All of this would be a whole lot simpler if you weren’t coughing your lungs out every few seconds and looking as if the faintest breeze might send you toppling over.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped at his words.

“Granted, I’m not overly fond of the idea of have a chicken for a lover — we would have to remain strictly platonic — but it’s a hell of a lot more appealing than having a dead mortal as my mate.”

He frowned when Sarah didn’t respond to his remark. She just stood there looking at him with some kind of odd emotion he could not place. Perhaps he had gone to far with that last comment.

He suddenly found the paper on the examining bed extremely fascinating and began to poke and tear at it anxiously.

Then without warning, Jareth felt Sarah grip his waistband, pulling him towards her and enveloping him in her arms. Her hands fisted the back of his shirt, and she squeezed him tightly, knocking the air right out of his lungs. 

Jareth stood there for a moment, blinking. And then Sarah felt him relax, his long arms snaking around her, pulling her in close. 

She drew languid patterns on his back with her nails, making him shiver and heart beat faster under the soft fabric of his shirt. Jareth nuzzled his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. His mind slowly calmed as he felt her breathe against him. She was here, warm and alive. That was all he could really ask for.

With a sigh, Sarah pulled back. Jareth only held her tighter in response. She laughed softly against him, the sound muffled by his chest.

“Jareth.”

He gave a sigh of his own, both equal parts pleased and reluctant, as he let her go. 

Sarah noticed the lights and walls were back to their original stale white, and the shadows had fled along with the sinister orange glow. Doctor Grewal was sitting, sprawled out on the floor. His glasses were askew, and he looked in terrible danger of letting loose another frightened squawk despite his return to a relative human state. 

Sarah kneeled down next to him and gingerly rested her hand on his shoulder, causing him to start.

“W-what happened?” he said, looking around wildly.

“The power went out and you tripped,” she told him consolingly. “Are you okay?”

He looked right at her, leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I have the strangest urge to peck at something.”

Sarah reflexively leaned away from him.

“Well,” came a crisp voice from behind them, “you can’t expect there to not be some ill effects after _fowl_ like that, doc.”

Sarah shot a sharp glare at Jareth, who was back, lounging indolently in his chair and watching the two with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up,” she mouthed at him.

“Come and make me,” he mouthed back.

Refusing to rise to the Goblin King’s bait, Sarah ignored Jareth and carefully helped the doctor off the floor and over to his swiveling chair.

“Terribly, sorry. Most unprofessional,” he muttered in a trance. “Now, uh — where was I?”

“I believe you were just about to prescribe my lovely wife some of your best medicine to help her get well,” Jareth said helpfully. Sarah rolled her eyes but said nothing, indulging him.

“Ah, yes,” the doctor said, attempting to gather himself. “Let’s see, uh — do you have any allergies, Mrs. Williams?”

“Only to Penicillin,” she said, eyeing Jareth.

“Good, good. I’ll prescribe you Tamiflu. It’s an antiviral, should help ease your symptoms. What’s your regular store?”

“The pharmacy on J Street.”

The doctor quickly typed up her prescription and then returned his attention to her once he finished. 

“All right then. Your medicine should be ready in a few hours for you to pick up. Drink lots of fluids and get plenty of rest, and you’ll be better in no time.”

“Thank you, Doctor Grewal,” Sarah said, gathering her things.

“Yes, thank you, doctor,” Jareth said, walking over to the man and sticking out his glove-covered hand. “You are a good man, taking on such a heavy _bird_ -en. But I’m sure for someone who has been in this business for so long, your responsibilities seem _light as a feather_.”

_“Jareth,”_ Sarah said from behind him.

The Goblin King smiled good-naturedly at the doctor’s wide-eyed expression.

“What’s wrong, doc? _Egg_ on my face?”

“No, not at all,” the doctor said, shaking himself. “Have a pleasant day, Mr. Williams.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Jareth said, walking away and steering Sarah to the exit. 

The doctor watched Jareth open the door and he and Sarah walk out into what was clearly not the beige colored hallway of the office, but the interior of a brick-walled apartment.

“Take care of yourself, doctor. I hear falls like that can take a while to re- _coup_ from.” Jareth stared at him over his shoulder with glittering eyes. And then he stepped over the threshold, the door swinging shut of its own accord behind him. 

Motionless, the doctor sat staring at the door. Minutes ticked by, until he finally turned back to the computer, silently muttering to himself about concussions and weird-eyed freaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI Sarah has been introducing Jareth into a lot of Aboveground culture and that does include music, specifically Bowie. Jareth’s favorite albums so far are Scary Monsters, Station to Station, and — that’s right, you guessed it — Hunky Dory (hope you caught the reference.)


	3. Why the Goblin King Is Not A Cat Person

“My will is as strong as yours, Goblin King—so stop pouting. This could be really good for us.”

Jareth scowled, refusing to back down. “I fail to see how this is in any way constructive to our relationship, much less what it has to do with it.”

Sarah sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Jareth knew that stance. He was overly, if not well acquainted with that stance to the point where he wouldn’t need to bother buying it drinks if he wanted to get lucky with it. That was her signature “give me the child or else I’m going to tear down your kingdom” stance. He had seen kingdoms crumble and worlds destroyed in the face of its might and power. Things never really ended well for him when Sarah used it. 

“You don’t understand because you’ve spent the last millennium with ale-chugging-baby-napping goblins as your only source of company,” she told him. “It is essential for couples to take things further when they’ve been involved as long as we have. This could help us to become closer.”

Jareth graciously ignored her first comment. After all he was, if anything, generous. Also he didn’t think it would be wise to send Sarah to an oubliette for an undisclosed amount of time. Especially if it wasn’t the one with the candles and the chains, and he wasn’t the one in them. 

“We are plenty close, Sarah. I’m pretty sure we demonstrated that enough times last night.”

To his delight, her cheeks took of a pink hue, and she stammered over her reply. “That- I- Ugh! Dammit, Jareth, I don’t mean in the purely physical sense. I mean emotionally. We’re not exactly the most intimate of people when it comes to our feelings. Doing this could help us establish a stronger psychological bond.”

“I consider myself to be incredibly in touch with my emotions,” Jareth said, affronted. “If you care to recall, I spent all last week by your side, repeatedly informing you of my complete and utter devotion to you.”

“Yeah after we saw _Final Destination_ , and you were so afraid that some random object was going to take me out that you wouldn’t leave my side. That’s not affection, that’s paranoia.”

Jareth huffed, his blonde bangs flying up to showcase his meticulously sculpted eyebrows. “Fine—but pick a different one.”

“Aw, come on!” Sarah pouted.

“No.”

“Please!”

_“No.”_

“Look how cute he is.” Sarah lifted a tiny, palm-sized kitten up to Jareth’s face. It was the color of bright poppies and yawned wide as it lied curled in her hands.

For some reason beyond him, Sarah had thought it would be a good idea to get a pet now that they were living together. Jareth didn’t have a problem with animals, per se; but living in a castle full of chickens had made him rather averse to pets in general. Even more so towards ones that might eat him while he slept. 

“You cannot seriously believe that getting a cat is a good idea. _I am an owl, Sarah_.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to come up with a good response. “You don’t have to transform inside the house,” she said obstinately.

“Pick a different animal.”

“But his little paws,” Sarah said, gently petting the kitten’s feet, marveling at their size. “Look how tiny they are!”

Feeling as if he was slowly losing the battle, Jareth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps there was a way to divert her attention from the beastly little feline. She was obviously not going to leave until they chose some animal to take home with them. He furtively searched around the pet store looking for something that would be less inclined to make a meal of him and might draw Sarah away from the cats.

“Why don’t we get you a nice turtle,” he said, pointing out the reptilian section of the store. “Or a fish—you like fish.”

“Yeah with my chips,” Sarah said, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t cuddle and play with a turtle or a fish. We need something more interactive.”

“How about a guinea pig?” Jareth said brightly.

Sarah held out the kitten for him to take. “Come on. Just hold him. I don’t know what you’re afraid of.”

“I am _not_ afraid of that minuscule creature,” he said, indignant.

She raised a thick eyebrow at him. Refusing to turn down a challenge, Jareth gave a half-hearted sigh and held out his hands for the cat.

It weighed practically nothing and slid into his open palms without even a mewl of protest. Afraid he might drop it, he brought his hands to his chest to hold it closer. The fur was soft and downy, and Jareth had to resist the urge to rub the kitten against his cheek for fear Sarah would never relent about taking it home.

“Well?” she asked, smug.

“Well, what?” he said.

“You think it’s cute. Don’t you?”

Jareth narrowed his eyes at her as she miserably failed to suppress a grin. 

“You think it’s endearing now. Soon it will get bigger and those tiny claw of his will get longer and sharper—all the better to tear into my lovely plumage.”

Sarah smiled at him with a disturbingly sly look in her eyes. 

“What?”

“You said he was cute,” she said, triumphant.

Jareth frowned and shoved the kitten at her, trying to get her to take it back. He really needed to work on how he phrased his words. She was much too observant for his own good. 

“We’re not getting a cat, Sarah.”

“But-”

“No.” 

“Come on.”

“No.”

In his attempt to make Sarah take back the kitten, Jareth startled the sleeping cat awake so that it immediately sunk its claws into his palms. Neither the cat nor Jareth took too kindly to being manhandled. After plenty of wheedling and tears, Sarah managed to calm down both the king and the kitten so she could remove the claws from Jareth’s skin without too much damage. Suffice to say they eventually settled on the pet situation, and went home with a good-sized fish bowl.


	4. Why Goblin Kings Should Probably Stick With Tight Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the Tumblr post,"the only real otp question that matters is which one has an oversized shirt with “SEX MACHINE” written on it in impact font and always wears it at the worst times possible."

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That bag you're holding on your side so that I can’t see it,” Sarah said. “What is it?”

Jareth sighed, but she could hardly hear it over the loud hum of voices that echoed through the mall. “It’s something I bought while you were in that godawful candle store—which I see you managed to clean out.”

“Hey, there was a sale!” she defended, clutching her purchases. “And I just ran out of Mountain Lodge. I needed to stock up.”

“Yes, now the whole apartment can smell like a lumberjack all day.”

“Well it’s better than smelling like a barnyard overrun with chickens,” she quipped.

“Touché.”

She smiled smugly at him.

After Jareth moved in, Sarah had finally gotten around to taking him shopping. She thought he needed a few pointers about blending in, as well as some pants that didn’t make him look like he just stepped off the set of _Robin Hood: Men In Tights_. They went from store to store trying on a range of different clothes. Jareth had complained the entire time. Apparently he felt the “garb” was too plain for his tastes. He eventually relented and let her buy him some clean cut button ups and slacks, but not before repeatedly mentioning how low human standards were for fashion.

Strolling behind a large group of people, dragging their kids along and shuffling around grandmas, they slowly made their way to the exit. Sarah sighed and grabbed Jareth’s hand, ready to maneuver through the dawdling crowds. But, before she could haul him away, he stopped, causing her to fly back into him. 

“What _are_ all those men doing?” he asked.

Sarah looked over to where Jareth was staring and sure enough there were at least a dozen men loitering outside a Victoria’s Secret store. A few of them managed to give off an indifferent air, but many were loaded down with shopping bags, heavy purses, and dismal expressions. 

“They’re trying to retain what’s left of their masculinity they think they still have. Apparently going within three feet of anything pink or resembling women’s lingerie will divest them of it.”

“I would have thought the opposite,” Jareth said, bemused.

“We humans are contradictory creatures,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You still haven’t told me what’s in the bag,” she added.

“Hmm, well…I feel it deserves a more hands-on response,” he said, carefully avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, that’s not cryptic at all. What does that even mean, ‘hands-on’?”

Jareth simply smiled at her. “You’ll just have to wait till we get home to see.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah watched her reflection in the mirror as it angrily brushed its teeth in front of her. 

Jareth still hadn’t shown her what was in the bag. On the way home, she stopped for gas and asked him to go pay at the kiosk so she could sneak a peak. But, he somehow guessed what she was up to because he took the bag with him and hadn’t let it go since they got back to her apartment.

She had to know what was in it. Who knows what he could have bought while her back was turned. Stores nowadays sold everything imaginable, and she was responsible for not letting the Goblin King loose on the unsuspecting public. The last thing she needed was to have to explain to a bunch of parents why her boyfriend was “testing” child leashes on their kids.

However, he did say he was going to show her what he bought. Perhaps she shouldn’t overreact just yet. It would be better to give him a little more time before she could come to the worst possible conclusion, _and then_ freak out.

But there was that thing he said…

 _Hands on_. 

What did that mean, hands—

Oh.

 _Oh_.

A warm feeling spread out from her lower abdomen and down through her legs. Sarah suddenly felt a lot less frustrated and much more anticipatory. She could be really dense sometimes, she thought as she put away her toothbrush. He even offered to cook tonight. She had just assumed he wanted her out of the way, but of course she had jumped to conclusions. 

Sarah studied herself in the mirror one last time, tussling her hair and practicing her aloof expression. A dab of her perfume was added on her wrists and neck for good measure before she went out into the hallway.

“Jareth,” she called, standing in the bedroom’s threshold. 

Maybe she could slip into something more appropriate, she thought. Her clothes from the day were a bit sweaty from running around.

“Still in the kitchen,” he answered. 

Taking one last look in the bedroom, she decided to forgo a change of clothes. She doubted she’d keep them on long anyway. 

The living room smelt of garlic and basil when Sarah walked into it. The aroma wafted out from the kitchen where she could see Jareth standing with his back to her. 

“Hey, that smells great. What are you cooking?” she asked, walking toward him. When she entered the kitchen, Sarah noticed that he had on an oversized black shirt that came right down to his mid-thigh and nothing else. It gave her a great view of his long legs, all lithe and corded. She smiled as she came up behind him, ready to wind her arms around him. But the smile slowly slid off her face once he turned around, and she read what was on his shirt.

In nondescript white letters, printed across his chest, were the words “SEX MACHINE.” 

It was more startling than anything else, but Sarah couldn’t quite help it when her jaw decided to detach from her upper mouth and fall, crashing to the floor.

“Do you like it?” Jareth asker her, not at all bothering to be subtle.

“That’s what you bought?” Sarah asked, incredulous. She felt suddenly very stupid and very angry. 

“It was on sale,” he told her innocently.

Sarah’s eye twitched as she tried her best to reign in her frustration. “You spent that entire shopping trip complaining about the quality of the clothes and how cheap the materials were, and you buy that- that… _tacky_ thing?”

“It’s actually quite soft—feel.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Come on.”

“I don’t want to feel the shirt, Jareth!”

He turned away from her, back to the stove. 

“Fine.” His shoulders drooped as he stirred the pasta.

Sarah sighed heavily, running a hand across her face. She hadn’t meant to yell at him. It was just that the combination from exhaustion and sexual frustration had made her crack. 

She walked up next to him, offering an apologetic smile. He didn’t look at her, but his jaw clenched, making his cheekbones look more prominent.

“It’s actually a pretty accurate description you know. If you hadn’t have found it first, I probably would have bought it for you.”

He peered down at her from the corner of his eye. “No, you wouldn’t have.”

“Hey, _I_ can get raunchy. Remind me to introduce you to James Brown.”

Jareth was quiet as he turned off the burner and served the pasta into two separate bowls. “So you don’t think it’s tacky,” he asked hesitantly.

Sarah was going to have to add ‘do not insult the Goblin King’s wardrobe’ to her list of things Jareth was overly sensitive about. It would go right under ‘do not ever comment on how many ruffled poet shirts the Goblin King owns.’

“Well,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “it’s bit bawdy. But…so are you. So it works.”

Jareth’s smile seemed to light up the kitchen. “Yes, I thought as well. Besides, there were a few options I found horribly inappropriate. I believe I chose the most tasteful of the bunch.”

“Of course, because advertising you libido is so much more refined,” she said unthinkingly. 

Before she could backtrack, Jareth chuckled low while pulling her into his arms. “It’s not so much of an advertisement as it is a…friendly reminder,” he said genially. 

Sarah could feel her face flush against her will as he held her tight to him. “You know you’re right,” she said.

He pulled back to look at her. “About?”

“This is really soft.” Sarah ran her hands down the expanse of his chest, her fingers fluttering along the material of his shirt.

Jareth smiled sharply. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, turning and walking off. 

Sarah wrinkled her brow as she watched him dig around a bottom cabinet. She tried to sneak a peak at what he was doing, but before she could catch a glance, he spun around and shoved a plastic bag in her hands.

“There was a two for one deal,” he said, while she pulled out a similar looking shirt from the bag. “I got yours custom.”

Sarah stared at the print on the shirt, trying not to give anything away as Jareth watched her expectantly. In swirling white letters against the black backdrop of the shirt were the words ‘Goblin Queen.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I didn't exactly cover the "wears the shirt at the worst possible time" so I'm thinking maybe a part 2...

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by dmacabre’s story, En Fuego. I had mistook part of the dialogue, and had the wonderful mental image of Jareth overreacting and needlessly calling on all the goblins to find Sarah after losing track of her in some common Aboveground setting.
> 
> Also, Jareth likes to pretend he’s mysterious. He only knew what she was making because he saw Sarah’s shopping list while snooping through her purse.


End file.
